


Blissful

by AnonymousPumpkin



Series: Homestuck Prompt Fills [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Beforus Trolls - Freeform, F/M, Implied/Referenced Sex, M/M, Post-Coital Cuddling, Quadrant Confusion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-27
Updated: 2016-09-27
Packaged: 2018-08-17 13:16:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,331
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8145427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonymousPumpkin/pseuds/AnonymousPumpkin
Summary: If you had to put an image to the word bliss, this would probably be it. And that’s not just the sex talking.Okay, so it might be a little of the sex talking. You were always one to get really sappy and clingy and blissed-out after sex.But in your defense, the sex was fucking amazing.A short peek into the complicated and dramatic love lives of my fantrolls.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt 58: Serenity

If you had to put an image to the word _bliss_ , this would probably be it. And that’s not just the sex talking.

Okay, so it might be a little of the sex talking. You were always one to get really sappy and clingy and blissed-out after sex.

But in your defense, the sex was fucking amazing.

You feel heavy and light at the same time, and all you want to do is sleep, but you can’t bring yourself to move to the ‘coon. None of you can, apparently, because you’ve barely moved at all since the last spark of desire faded. All you really did was shift so that one of you could captchalogue the rags coated in varying shades of purple. The aftermath of your impromptu pailing wasn’t nearly as catastrophic as it could’ve been, actually. Your pile isn’t really that worse for wear, though you did have to get rid of almost half the quilts that had been soiled. You don’t produce genetic material optimally out of drone season, but three adult trolls still produce a lot of gunk between all of them.

Wow, okay, you’re ruining the moment. Try _not_ to think about gross bodily fluids while cuddling in blissful afterglow. Rule number thirty-four of any successful matespritship. Matespritship? You’re not really sure what this is actually. (Fucking confusing is what.) You just had sex with your moirail and your auspitice, who is also your former matesprit, and _also_ your matesprit’s kismesis, and _also_ your moirail’s hatecrush, who you also keep trying to hatefuck. If your other auspistice were here, you’d have all your quadrants present and accounted for. You doubt Selkie would be down for this, though. She’s always found your habit of playing fast and loose with your quadrants to be dizzying and confusing. It’s not your fault that your social circle is ridiculously small, and romantic options are limited. There are probably only ten (and a half) trolls left in the whole universe, so you can hardly be blamed for blurring the lines a bit.

In your defense, however, this entire messed up situation is entirely the fault of the afore-mentioned ex-matesprit, which is kind of why you split up in the first place, and why you keep trying to hatefuck him in the first place… Except Selkie is trying to _keep_ you from hatefucking him, on account of him being a) an abusive asshole and b) trying to be pitch with your moirail, who had no auspistice to guide her away and certainly hates him enough to go for it. This entire thing is a little bit dizzying because even though you’re sure there are no hearts anywhere near any of you, that entire thing was probably the most flushed thing you’ve ever done in your life. And _that’s_ confusing as hell.

 Wow, okay, ruining the mood again. You tell your brain to shut the fuck up and just focus on how fucking amazing you feel right now. It isn’t that hard. As you said before: _bliss_.

Cicera is pressed against your chest, lying awkwardly on her left arms. She is still purring, her fingers idling playing with yours. Every now and then she whispers some pale nothing against your skin, kissing the scars and freckles. Requin is at your back, arms around your waist and lips pressed against your shoulder. He is less…romantic. You’re pretty sure having his arms around you is just an excuse to prod at Cicera, who occasionally stops basking in her pity for you to snarl at him. That’s about as riled up as it gets, though. You all just did fuck each other senseless, and don’t really have the energy for quadrant games right now.

And speaking of…you let out one big sigh, letting the last bit of residing tension out of your body. You pull Cicera closer, pressing your face in between her horns to kiss the top of her head. As an afterthought, you nudge Requin with your foot. He snorts but doesn’t push you for more. It should feel awkward, having him right beside you while you hold your moirail, but it doesn’t. You spent so much of your life lying beside at least one of them that it feels almost natural to be between them.

You feel so…strange. Pale and flushed and ashen are all swirling around inside you, the former two most dominantly. Cicera is pacifying you almost to the point of slumber, while Requin’s breath on the back of your neck has some predatory, yearning part of you wide awake. Your thighs ache and your arms hurt and your lips are swollen and bleeding, but you feel…really good. Cicera is the most relaxed you’ve seen her in weeks, with that little crease between her brows all but gone. Requin is humming softly, tracing circles on your hips, just like he used to. You feel…good. Serene. Better than you’ve felt in a long time.

 "Say…why don’t we put the little one between us?” Requin mutters behind you, and you feel that goodness fade, just a little bit. Neither of you are fooled by his light, tired tone. You can feel his smirk against your back. “That way she warms us _both_ up.”

 Cicera snorts. “Like fuck I’m snuggling up to your ugly ass, Altris.” She grips you tighter, and shifts so she can turn a blank eye in Requin’s direction. You feel him shudder, and you feel her smirk. “You can freeze your bugle off for all I care.”

"Aw, that ain’t what you were sayin’ about ten minutes ago—”

“Pfft. Not sure what weird fantasy you were in that you couldn’t even tell me and Pslept apart but—”

“Pslept don’t sound like that. He ain’t a damn squeakbeast.”

“I was _raised_ by a squeakbeast, cullbait. Least I don’t fucking shove my fingers around like I’m searching for fucking grubs in the dirt. Who _taught_ you to fucking do that, they need to be _culled_.”

"Please. Guys. I’m having a moment.” You don’t have to try too hard to keep your tone light-hearted. Though hate is starting to radiate between them in waves, you’re just tickled by how amusing hateflirting is from the outside. You kiss Cicera’s brow and she immediately back down, mewing against your throat. “I think we can all agree that that was great and move on.”

“Mmmm. Yeah.” The answer comes from both of them promptly and almost simultaneously. You _feel_ their glares as if they’re going straight through you. You shoosh Cicera softly.

“We can also agree that this is great, but starting to get a little sticky,” you venture a few minutes later, and they both agree just as promptly. To your dismay, you all start to disentangle your limbs from one another. It’s a slow process, though, as you all keep stopping to kiss one another with varying degrees of gentleness.

Requin is the first to completely pull away, to no one’s surprise, and doesn’t even bother saying goodbye except in the form of a rude gesture at an unseeing Cicera. He just wipes himself off with the wet towel you offer, pulls on what little clothing he had been wearing to begin with, and absconds. It doesn’t hurt as much as you thought it would to see him go, but that may be that Cicera’s still in your lap, purring softly and petting your arm.

She gets up and guides you toward the bathroom, and washes away all evidence of your tryst from your bodies. She sponges down the bruises on your shoulders and thighs, and you clean up the bites and cuts on her stomach and chest. When all evidence is gone or at least no longer smarting, you finally retire to your shared ‘coon, and it’s there, with your aching starting to fade and your moirail in your arms and your mind still pleasantly high from sex and sopor, that you think you know true bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> I figure, I just posted a whole lot about my fantrolls on Tumblr. Might as well polish up and publish this little fill for them. Seriously, Pslept's love life is the most complicated in the entire damn group. Poor baby.
> 
> These three are three in a group of eleven Beforan trolls I created to play Sgrub. Because, in my brain: if, in the human's Betaverse, they weren't the only ones to play, and the Alpha humans were, then if the Beta _trolls_ were the only ones to play, then the Alpha trolls _wouldn't_ have been. Don't ask how it makes any fucking sense. I just like Beforus a lot, and wanted to explore Sgrub with a less violent group of trolls. I may start publishing a lot more with them, though, because I seriously have put so much into them. But anyway.
> 
> Another prompt filled. I actually _have_ been filling these once a week, but most are so awful or I just don't finish them, so...yeah. :o/


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